Monday, September 17, 2012

My newly organized scrap baskets!

On Friday, I did a radio interview and a reading at a local bookstore for my new book. I'm not sure I've recovered yet. I'd planned to spend Saturday working on the attic--I really did! Honest!--but mostly I napped. Yesterday I worked on a quilt I'm making my sister-in-law for Christmas and made a pot roast. In other words, another quiet weekend. And an attic that's still a big, honkin' mess.

Various things to report ...

Jack is running for Student Government treasurer. He would do a good job, but he probably won't win. I believe his campaign platform is "I'm obviously the superior person for the job, and you'd be an idiot not to vote for me." I'm happy that my child does not lack in the self confidence department, but I wish he'd figure out that he'd win more votes if he was actively nice to his peers.

I tried eating bacon recently. It was a bad idea. My gut is tolerating a wider variety of food these days, but pig is not one of them.

The administrative assistant at Our Fine Middle School continues to be one of the scariest people on the planet. I needed something from her the other day and barely lived to tell the tale. I thought by having Jack bake her a pie at the end of the school year last year, I'd have it made in the shade. Mrs. T would love our whole family, and when ever I walked into the office, she'd smile and say, "How may I help you, Mrs. D?" Boy, was I wrong. Fortunately, I have learned from my Southern husband that in situations like this, the best defense is to be ridiculously polite. Because you might feel bad after being abused by a difficult secretary, but not as bad as you would if you were snotty about it.

I can hear the UPS truck coming down the street. I haven't ordered anything, but I still hope it'll stop in front of my house. I always hope the UPS truck will stop in front of my house.

I'm still feeling quiet. I'm writing my prayers down in a notebook, and it feels like writing a very long poem. I like writing prayers--I concentrate better, and am sometimes surprised by what it occurs to me to pray about.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm feeling quiet right now because there's something inside me waiting to be born. I'll let you know.

11 comments:

Hi Frances!I always want the UPS truck to stop here, too! I get my nose out of joint if the package is for Bill. How dare he order things and get my hopes up!I think school administrative secretaries are overworked and constantly interrupted, so they get irritable. Pie or no pie.I hope there is another book in you! I just finished Second Life! LIKE! LIKE! LIKE!I am glad your stomach is better, but I'm very sad that you can't eat bacon. I won't eat it either, just to be sympathetic.Yes on the carmel apples. Too bad I swore off cheese and now milk. Drat.

Frances, i would love to know where to find your new book. Why aren't you advertising it shamelessly on your blog?Don't you wish you could run your children's lives from inside their minds? We would be so much better at it than them (this is where I out myself as a scary control freak). Attics are meant to be full of mysterious, unsorted piles of boxes and old stuff. Whoever had adventures in a neat and tidy attic?

We don't have a UPS truck...and the Aussie Post man doesn't stop here often either. Sad. Very sad. If the postie brought me children's picture books I'd be a happy girl.

You need to move to Australia and come to Our School. Our receptionist is so nice that the little people never leave her alone. She hasn't the heart to send them away. She also has good stories to tell about her visitors. Everyone needs a Mrs S in their school!!!

I wanted to email you yesterday to see how your tummy has been behaving lately (had 2 emails and didn't know which one was right!). I'm glad you're doing better. Maybe one day soon you'll be right as rain again.

That's usually the way it happens, isn't it? That's been my experience and I've read that from others, too. Although sometimes with me instead of getting quiet, I get all antsy and aggravated. Yep, that's usually the way it is for me. But quiet sounds so much more genteel than antsy.

Jo's comment about attics being mysterious places is true. But mine is too small to be anything but a cluttered mess if it's not regularly rearranged. I went up there yesterday to look for a fabric scrap needed for a project. It took me five minutes to go five feet. I took my phone with me in case I got sucked in or lost.

How nice and neat your scrap basket is! Mine is a heap but in a basket at least. I'm always thrilled when the UPS truck stops. I even give fresh baked cookies to my UPS man when he stops...I just think it's a good thing to be kind to such a man who brings you things.

You're such a good sister to make quilts for her Christmas gift. I wish you were my sister.

I agree with dB. I have three or four rooms in my house that need major work in decluttering and organizing, and also I'm not producing anything of monetary value as an alternative activity as you are. Here I am far away from home, and thinking that "when I get home, I will certainly tackle ___" but I don't have a good track record.

I'm happy for your new book, and that at least one interview is over with. God bless you!

Hi Frances, using Pom Pom's hint above, and superlative research skills, I found your books, and your book website. They all look just to be what my 12yo absolutely needs! I love the photo of you as a teenager. You look uncannily like the photo of your son that you put on the blog a few months back! I rang up my local bookshop and ordered the one they could most easily lay their hands on here in Oz, Shooting the Moon, which should resonate with Rosy's current preferred reading matter, Michael Morpurgo's many war novels, and Deborah Ellis' brilliant Parvana series. How wonderfully marvellous of you to not only provide a thoughtful and beautiful blog, but also potential birthday presents for daughters and nieces! Well done you, and congratulations on the new book..

About Me

I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.